


Promises Made from Heartache...

by AllHallowsEve



Series: Wincest Colored Glasses [33]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Drinking, Episode: s02e11 Playthings, Fantasizing, Fear, M/M, Masturbation, Pre-Slash, Self Loathing, Wincest - Freeform, getting drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 00:27:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17570798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllHallowsEve/pseuds/AllHallowsEve
Summary: After having no luck finding Ava or any signs of what the Yellow Eyed Demon might have done with her, the brothers take on a case in a haunted house.  Sam's fears send him into the bottom of too many bottles and unfortunately Dean is the one to pay for it.Season 2 Episode 11 as seen through Wincest Colored Glasses.





	Promises Made from Heartache...

**Author's Note:**

> So it looks like I might be back in gear. Still feeling a little rusty but hopefully beginning to knock the dust off a bit.
> 
> As always this work is unbeta'd so if you find any mistakes, please point them out so I can fix this and make things better for everyone.

Dean wasn’t sure whether he was happy to be back on the road or not.  The last month they had been camped out in the same motel room together searching for Ava.  It had been his idea to lay low in the first place, and Ava being missing was a good excuse for them to do so, but being this close to Sam for this long, without any real casework action going on, had caused Dean to go a little stir crazy.

But on the other hand, he didn’t know how to keep Sam safe from the Yellow Eyed Demon if they were working active cases, or if that even mattered.  Dean didn’t know if taking a case and popping their heads back out in the world as a whole would be putting Sam in danger or not.  Hell, he didn’t know what was what anymore. 

The guy was a demon and could go anywhere and do anything so it didn’t really make sense that staying in one place would keep Sam safe.  At first it felt like it had been worth a try at least.  But Dean found it very hard being in the room alone with Sam without a moving target, or monster to focus on other, than the endless, fruitless, search for the missing young woman.  So, Dean found himself on as many food runs, tracking down hints of leads, or tiny excuses that called for leaving the cozy Sam smelling motel, as he could, while his brother stayed in and dug around on the computer as much as Dean could insist. 

Knowing Sam was safe in a salted motel room made Dean happy, but being away from Sam made his skin itch.  Being in the room made his heart happy, but made it harder not to notice every little move Sam made and every beautiful line and curve of his face and body.  It was a Catch 22 if there had ever been one for Dean.

So when he walked into the room with coffee and Sam announced the potential for a case from Ellen, Dean was both happy and sad to be leaving their little nest they had made together over the last month.

Sam hadn’t seen any signs from Dean, the entire time they had been searching for Ava, that Dean had the same incestuous feelings for Sam as Sam did for him.  It disappointed Sam and made his lack of clues about Ava’s disappearance even more depressing.  He had hoped, that being in such close quarters with Dean, he would see signs if there were any.  But quite the opposite.  Dean kept talking to Sam as if he and Ava had been some kind of item. 

Even though Sam had on numerous occasions explained in detail how there hadn’t been anything between them, other than their demonic circumstances, Dean wouldn’t seem to let it drop.  So Sam began tuning it out and focused on the job of trying to find her.  But there was nothing.  No new clues to what happened, no ideas of her whereabouts or if she was even still alive. 

When he checked in with Ellen and she had told him about the potential case at the hotel in Connecticut he was thrilled Dean didn’t bring up the need to lay low and ‘protect him from the demon’ lecture again.  There was no reason not to take the case and he was tired of looking for clues from Dean that obviously weren’t there. 

The last week Dean had started hooking up with women almost every night and not coming back to the motel until the wee hours, so Sam’s hopes of reciprocation were pretty much null and he felt stupid for ever having the idea that those feelings could have been there to begin with.  As they packed to get on the road, he told himself he was also packing away the belief that he had had that Dean could feel anything more for him than deep brotherly devotion. 

The drive was long and the rain had brought down Sam’s mood quite a bit.  But when they finally pulled into the hotel lot Dean began expounding on the joy of an old fashioned haunted house. Sam couldn’t help but allow his brother’s child like exuberance to lift his spirit.  When Dean was in a good mood, it made it hard for Sam to do anything but be drawn in by it.  As they got closer to the entrance Dean began reminiscing about Scooby Doo.  Dean’s voice dropped lower at the mention of Daphne and an ‘mmm’ sound growled low in Dean’s throat as he said “Love her.” Sam suddenly had to adjust the way he was walking to accommodate the growing interest of his own towards his brother in response.  He rolled his eyes and hoped his multiple layers of shirts hid his body’s shameful behavior.

Sam didn’t have time for much self flagellation over his guilt, because his attention was caught by an unusual shape in the urn on the steps as they walked by.  He adjusted the bag thrown over his shoulder to fall more forward so as to hide the parts of him he didn’t want Dean to notice, as he called his brother’s attention to the mark on the urn.  He pointed the Quincunx out and they discussed the hoodoo ramifications of what this might mean in conjunction to the deaths at the hotel.

Dean didn’t seem convinced, saying that the place seemed too white meat for any hoodoo spell work.  Sam wasn’t ready to rule it out as coincidence yet though.

They walked into the lobby of the hotel and Sam was overrun by a small girl laughing and giggling as she pushed by him.  The woman behind the desk apologized and then informed the two men that they might be some of the hotel’s final guests.  She apologized again after Dean said that her statement was vaguely ominous.  She explained that she had meant that they were closing the hotel at the end of the month.

She looked both men up and down and said, “Let me guess, you guys are here antiquing?”

They hadn’t really come up with a cover story yet, figuring they would get the lay of the land first and see which way they needed to play the scenario, so Dean looked to Sam who smiled and nodded and Dean replied, “How’d you know?”

It sounded innocent enough to him and since Sam was nodding Dean took it to mean he probably had enough knowledge to fool the locals anyway, like he did with art history.  Dean could just keep his mouth shut about anything he didn’t know and let Sam fill in their cover. 

The woman smiled at him and said, “Oh you just looked the type.”

Dean blinked and smiled, not really sure what antiquers looked like.  The smile froze on his face though when she added, “So, a king-size bed?”

Dean’s eyes got wide and the smiled dropped away when the implications of what she said made its way through the confusion.  Dean couldn’t think of what to say and his heart panicked remembering the last time someone had assumed they were gay.  It was the day Sam made it abundantly clear that he wanted nothing to do with Dean in any gay capacity and had broken his big brother’s frail hope into a thousand shattered pieces. 

Sam’s reaction to the woman’s question drove that point home in no uncertain terms with his explicit denial, “What? No. No. No. We’re… Two singles, we’re just brothers.”

Dean’s heart dropped and he barely held his face together in a neutral mask as the woman apologized for the third time in their short interaction.

Dean couldn’t help himself, it came out before he meant it to, “What did you mean that we looked the type?” He looked down at himself, he hadn’t been flirting with Sam, far from it.  He hadn’t in any way meant to give anything away, maybe if she could tell him what she meant then he could stop doing whatever it was he was doing.  He didn’t want Sam to be mad.  He didn’t want to drive a wedge any further between them than his failed attempt to flirt a few months ago, and the secret he had kept as his father’s last wish, already had.

Before she could get out any answer though, Sam broke in with a question about the urn on the porch.  Dean realized he needed to focus on the job, let everything else go and not think about the implications of anything else.

Before he could fully get behind that determination, an older man stepped up and the woman asked him to take the brothers to their room.  He made the same assumption she had and asked if they were antiquers.  Dean’s shoulders slumped as he followed the man where he led without responding.

Dean walked in front of Sam so that he didn’t have to meet his brother’s eyes yet.  He didn’t want to see the negativity there if there was any.  Sam kept his focus on the case, asking the older gentlemen about the hotel’s closing and got him to talk about its history somewhat.  Dean was so rattled by the previous interaction that he just stayed mostly silent trying to recover.

Sam got right to work on the case.  His heart was heavy with wishing they could have accepted the king bed to share.  He wished they were truly together but the shocked embarrassed expression on Dean’s face at the suggestion from the woman told Sam all he needed to know.  Dean was as straight as they come and the last week of his carousing should have driven that point home to Sam but he couldn’t convince his betrayer heart to stop wanting his brother, and to stop yearning for his brother to want him.  That was the newer harder part to handle.

Sam had to focus himself, focus on the case at hand, it was the only way to keep himself from becoming a maudlin mess, not just about Dean, it might be easier if it were just about him, but Sam was still so scared for Ava, and then the bigger picture of his potential turn to the dark side.  It loomed over him more and more as the days went on without any clue about Ava.  Could a demon come for him as it had for her, and if it did, could he be manipulated into being bad or even a killer as Gordon had taunted him?  Sam wanted to believe he would never go dark, but what if?

Sam shook his head and refocused his attention on the papers in front of him, as Dean began to pace around the room.  Sam began to read off the facts of the case to Dean, who wasn’t happy about the décor or the ambiance of the hotel.

Dean pieced together the facts quickly that pointed to both victims having some connection to the hotel shutting down.  They discussed who could possibly be trying to affect the outcome through the use of hoodoo, but neither Susan, the owner, nor Sherwin the steward seemed up to the task at all.

Sam’s shoulders began to relax from the familiarity of casework, bouncing ideas off of each other always made Sam’s brain work at full capacity.  It was one of his favorite parts of working a case, all the new facts to take in and sort, and doing so with Dean made him feel warm in his chest, like this was enough, this, working with him at what they were good at, could truly be enough of a life for Sam.  That feeling spread and began to make him calmer than he had been in a while, until Dean replied, “Of course, the most troubling question is, why do these people assume we’re gay?”

Sam rarely got the chance to tease Dean the way Dean did him.  Even though it pinched at Sam because of how much he wished it were true that they were together, this was one thing he could poke at his brother with.  He took full advantage by saying in a deadpan delivery, “You are kind of butch.”

He tried to hold the serious tone, and didn’t look at Dean as he said it, but he couldn’t help the draw of his eyes to his brother and the pull at the corners of his mouth desperately wanting to break into a smile as he finished, “Probably think you’re overcompensating.”

Sam’s eyes found his brother’s.  The lines at the corners of Dean’s eyes became deeper as his cheeks appled up in a blush and his lips pulled into a bitter self deprecating smile as Dean chuckled and said, “Right.”

Sam was surprised that in spite of the laugh Dean seemed genuinely uncomfortable about it.  Sure it was not unusual for a traditionally straight guy to feel discomfort when his sexuality was questioned, but Dean didn’t usually sweat that kind of stuff, being comfortable and confident with his abilities with the ladies.

So the way Dean looked a little nervous as his eyes glanced back up into Sam’s smiling face made Sam’s stomach feel like he had just gone over the top of a roller coaster.  There was a blush to Dean’s cheeks that Sam barely got a glimpse of before Dean stood up and cleared his throat saying, “We should go check in with the Susan chick and see if we can get any leads.”

Sam berated himself, telling his hopes to not even start in on that again.  He stood up and followed Dean out of the room and down the hallway towards the office they had seen on their way up.  Sam caught a glimpse inside a smaller vase on a side table as they walked by and he showed Dean yet another hoodoo mark that matched the one out front.

Again, the guys hadn’t really gone through a plan of action since this was spur of the moment on Dean’s behalf to get out of the room, so when Susan answered the door they really didn’t have anything to say at first as to why they had even knocked.  But then Dean noticed all the dolls and began to form a plan for payback on Sam which would also hopefully get them in the door and get Susan talking.

He told the woman that Sam had a major collection of antique dolls back home and Dean’s face spread with joy at the shocked look of dismay that Sam could barely suppress at the statement.  Sam knew this was revenge for what he had said in the room but Dean laid it on thick even for him, it got deep.  He could tell Dean was having a blast so at least that was something but Sam was completely uncomfortable walking into the room with dolls everywhere, on shelves and side tables and sitting up in chairs.  Sam swallowed his pride and began looking around the room for clues, just thankful that these dolls weren’t clowns. 

Even though Dean had been the one to come up with the plan, once he entered the room he couldn’t help but being a little creeped out by the plethora of dolls everywhere.  He tried to get Susan to open up about it but before she had much to say, Sam interrupted by pointing out a dollhouse replica of the hotel and asked Susan about that instead.  Sam found one of the tiny dolls in the house was lying prone with his head twisted all around just like the last victim.

Sam asked about it and Susan explained Tyler, her daughter, probably had something to do with it.  At that moment the girl in question ran into the room and asked her mother to stop Maggie from being mean to her.

Sam walked out from behind the miniature and asked Tyler about the broken doll.  He volunteered to fix it but the girl denied that she nor Maggie had anything to do with what happened to it, stating that they would never hurt any of them because her grandmother would get mad if she did.

It was the first they had heard of anyone else so Dean asked about the grandmother and Tyler explained that all the dolls and toys were Grandma Rose’s and she would be upset if they were broken.  Dean asked where she was now and Tyler said up in her room, and Sam picked up the point instantly saying he would love to ask Rose about all her incredible dolls.

Susan balked at the idea saying that would be impossible because her mother had been very sick and not currently taking any visitors.

The brothers walked out of the room and made a plan of action to split up, Dean would go see what he could dig up on the grandmother and Sam would get online and see about obits and freak accidents associated with the history of the hotel. 

Dean told Sam to “See if the old lady had whacked anybody before.”  He added as an afterthought, “Don’t go surfing porn, it’s not the kind of whacking I mean.”

Dean didn’t stop to admire the bitch face he knew was the only response Sam would have for him. Dean clearly always was his own worst enemy because now all he could think about was Sam, in the room, watching porn, jacking off.

Dean needed to get out and get some fresh air, stretch his legs and give his heart and libido a rest from being that close to Sam.  As much as he enjoyed seeing Sam squirm about his surprise doll collection, all this talk and innuendo about being gay was wearing Dean thin.  He wanted it to be true so badly that they were together as a couple, longed for it, and just a couple of months ago had hopes maybe it could be true, but it wasn’t true.  It would never be true.  Sam didn’t want him that way and Dean had to find a way to squash those lingering thoughts like a bug. 

Sam tried to focus on the tabs he had open on the computer from several of the local newspapers but his mind kept wandering back to Dean’s blush from earlier.  That made him begin to daydream about how good Dean looked in his light brown Henley that morning and how it showed off his shoulders and arm muscles.  The amulet that Sam had given Dean all those years ago hung in the middle of his chest, drawing attention to Dean’s well define pecs.  Sam had no idea how Dean stayed in such good shape, he never worked out, ate like shit. but yet his body was incredible.  Yes he dug graves regularly and chased after all manner of monsters, but still, Dean’s body was better built than it had any right to be.  Sam realized he was hard as a rock and had read the same sentence on the screen multiple times without absorbing a word of it.

Dean’s parting words echoed in Sam’s mind.  It would serve Dean right for Sam to jack off while he was gone.  Sam blushed, he didn’t want to run the risk of Dean walking in on him, so he texted his brother and asked how his search was going.  Dean texted back that he hadn’t found anything yet but had several more ideas to track down.  Sam took that to mean he had plenty of time.  He unzipped and got to work with images of Dean flowing through his brain, the way Dean had touched him to check him over after Gordon had tried to blow him up, the way Dean had looked this morning as he dressed across the room from Sam, all the various thoughts flowed straight to Sam’s dick. 

Sam looked around the room guiltily and saw Dean’s bag open at the foot of his bed, the shirt he had slept in the night before was hanging out the side and Sam reached over with the hand that wasn’t busy and brought the cloth up to his nose to smell.  It was intoxicating. 

Sam’s phone buzzed and he lowered the shirt to flip it open, “After I finish all my leads, going out to local watering holes to ask around, don’t wait up.”

Sam’s heart felt like it had been stabbed.  Images of Dean picking up a girl and going home with her filled Sam’s mind.  Unfortunately he was too far along in his search for release for even that to fade his erection so he tried to focus back on what he had been thinking.  Then he pulled the shirt back up to his nose and that helped.  He tried to change the scene in his mind from Dean standing over a girl at the bar to Dean standing next to Sam, asking him if he was ready to go home for the night, with him.  That got him back on rhythm, he breathed in the scents from the shirt deeply and picked up his pace, imagining Dean here in the room with him after a night in a bar together, Dean undressing Sam, kissing down his neck, unzipping his pants taking him in hand.  _Well that did it._  

Sam’s heart spiked and his mind went white, his breathing was ragged and harsh.  Once he caught his breath he looked down at Dean’s shirt.  He had cum all over it.  Shame hit him in the gut and stole his breath.  _What did he just do?_   Sam never let himself fantasize like that.  That only made his need worse.  That could never be real and fantasizing about it was bad enough, but he had just cum all over his brother’s shirt. 

Fear began to pool in the base of his spine.  This was so wrong.  He stood and began to try to clean himself up and gathered the guilty evidence with some of their other clothes and went to see if he could use the laundry the hotel surely had for its guests to use.

After starting the washer, Sam went back to the room to try to focus on the newspaper reports.  By the time the load was ready to go into the dryer, he had made enough progress to know that there was nothing in any of the papers online prior to the two recent deaths to indicate an ongoing history of problems.

He went back to the laundry and moved the clothes from the washer to the dryer.  Seeing the shirt now clean made him sad and feel guilty all over again.  How could he believe he would never turn evil?  He was incestuously in love with his brother.  He had been since he was old enough to understand what love was.  How could he possibly believe he wouldn’t turn towards whatever the Yellow Eyed Demon wanted him to do?  He had been twisted and wrong his entire life. 

Sam walked around the spaces in the hotel that were open to the guests, trying to clear his head.  He found the pool area, walked around outside and sat in the swings some.  That made him think of all the times Dean would take him to small parks and play areas when they were kids to keep him from being bored.   Dean was great at being a big brother.  He only wanted to take care of Sam and protect him.  A pang of disgust and self reproach blossomed brightly in Sam’s chest again. 

He wandered back into the hotel and saw a small café style bar just off the main hall.  He didn’t like to drink.  He was fine with an occasional beer after a hunt, and sometimes Dean would talk him into going out to a bar with him, but mostly Sam hated the way being drunk made him feel, not to mention he was always paranoid that if he got too drunk he might let his guard down and let Dean see his true feelings, or actually confess them.  That fear had always been enough to keep him mostly sober and he never liked to drink on a case, but the thoughts of Dean potentially in a bar right now looking to score a hookup turned his stomach. 

Dean wasn’t here now, and if Dean found a hookup he wouldn’t be home maybe even the rest of the night, if his text was any indication.  Sam made his way to the bar and sat down.  Sherwin was there, and Sam told himself this would be a good opportunity to ask the guy some questions.  Instead he began to drink and got lost in his own thoughts.  He drank more, and more still.  His mind kept going back to the way Dean’s shirt looked covered in his spunk.  The more he drank the more convinced he became that maybe his father had been right.  Maybe his dad knew that, deep down inside, Sam was bad.  Maybe somehow John had known about Sam’s secret desires.  Otherwise why would John have been so convinced that Dean might one day have to kill Sam?

His own father believed he might not be worth saving.  Sam had had hope that if he saved enough people then maybe his own soul would be worth saving, but he had not been doing so well in that vein either.  He continued to drink until the man behind the bar looked at him in concern and said, “You seem to be a light weight, maybe you should make your way back up to your room?”

Sam wanted to fight and ask for another drink, but he remembered the clothes in the dryer.  He had to get them back and folded before Dean got home.  They weren’t out of clean clothes yet and Dean would wonder why he would stop in the middle of doing casework to do laundry if they weren’t out of clothes.  Sam stood up on shaky legs and made his way back to the dryer after only going down two wrong hallways in the attempt. 

He found their room without much further problems. He was so drunk and so focused on getting rid of the evidence of his sin that he didn’t realize he left the door open with his own key hanging from the lock.  It took him a while to fold and sort the clothes because his mind was so fuzzy.  He thought he was imagining things when he began to see lights flashing in the room but then he walked to the window and realized there was an ambulance carting off a new dead person out of the hotel.

Sam’s legs wobbled towards the door.  He should find out what happened, but the room began to spin.  He berated himself.  How could he have drunk so much?  He was on a case.  He couldn’t go talk to Susan this way.  He thought about it, and decided to call down and see if she would tell him what had happened. 

The woman sounded distraught and relieved to have someone to talk to.  She explained that the man who worked for the company that was buying the hotel had hung himself. 

Sam allowed the guilt, from his drinking on the job, and the failure to save yet another person, to flow through him as his eyes settled on the little mini bar set up just to the side of the window. 

He decided he was already drunk, he had already failed to do his job so he might as well drink himself into oblivion.  Maybe that would keep him from thinking about his brother and how much he wished Dean was here fucking him, instead of whatever busty blonde he was balls deep in right now.  He looked and two of the small bottles were somehow already empty.  Maybe the next bottle would help him forget how big of a failure at saving people he was.  He looked at the tray and there were only two more tiny bottles left and thought he might as well empty those too in the hopes that maybe he could forget the Yellow Eyed Demon coming to turn him into what he would inevitably become.

Dean’s leads had taken longer than he had thought but had actually given him little to go on.  He had decided not to hit the bar, even though he desperately wanted to.  He had thought of Sam all afternoon.  Getting out of the hotel and away from his little brother had done nothing to ease up Dean’s desires.  He should have known.  Sleeping his way through every bar in Peoria the month they had spent searching for Ava hadn’t lessened his desires for Sam.  Hell, the last decade of his life sleeping with a new woman in every town he could manage hadn’t done that either.  Four years of Sam being away at Stanford had left Dean stripping his dick to thoughts of his brother the entirety of Sam’s college career.  After having no luck on the case, he just wanted to go back and see Sam so he bypassed the local bars and the potential of getting laid tonight because it wouldn’t have helped anyway.

Dean was in a pretty foul mood when he drove up to the inn and it got even darker as he saw the police and coroner vehicles there waiting for his return.  He walked up just as the cops were finishing with Susan.  He asked her what happened and she told him the same information she had given Sam earlier.  Dean launched himself up the stairs because it was obvious they were running out of time.  He walked into their room telling Sam what had happened and asking him what he had found without really looking at his brother. 

Dean headed straight to his bag to load up on supplies they might need to search the hotel for whatever was going on.  It wasn’t until Sam began answering him back with odd disjointed phrases like, “You’re bossy,” and “You’re short,” as he chuckled from the chair where he sat in the middle of the room, unmoved since Dean had walked in, that Dean realized there was a problem.

Dean began to berate his brother, he had no idea what was going on, Sam never drank on a case.  But his anger quickly softened to concern as tears began to form in his little brothers eyes. 

Dean realized Sam was berating himself more than Dean ever would, but for different reasons, illogical reasons.  Sam began to explain that he couldn’t save the guy who just hung himself, and then started in about Ava.

Dean’s patience cracked at the mention of the missing female. He took a breath and tried to keep himself from rolling his eyes.  He walked over to Sam and said, “You can’t save everyone, even you said that.”  There wasn’t a lot of compassion in Dean’s voice because Sam’s concern for Ava had stomped his last nerve even before they had left Peoria.

Sam told Dean that he felt that the more people he saved the more he could change his destiny.  Dean didn’t want to hear any more about the destiny crap.  He didn’t want Sam to be drunk and he didn’t want to be in this stupid hotel anymore, but he couldn’t change any of those things so he went into his big brother role and helped Sam stand up telling him it was time for bed.

As Sam moved he said in a pleading voice, “I need you to watch out for me.”

Dean took it as drunk talk and dismissed it with “Yeah, I always do,” as he moved Sam closer to his bed.

Sam turned towards Dean and stopped moving, saying, “No, no, no, no.”

Sam’s face became serious and no longer seemed like the ravings of alcohol induced silliness.  His eyes cleared and found Dean’s as he said, “You have to _watch out_ for me. All right?”

He took a breath and saw that Dean was paying attention now.  Sam’s tone became grave, “And if I ever turn into something that I’m not…”

Understanding flashed into Dean’s dismayed eyes as he finally realized what was behind Sam’s drinking.  His heart broke for his brother, as he realized how much Sam feared himself and the potential of turning dark.  He realized it must have been eating Sam up, and his brother hadn’t let on at all. 

All of this barely had time to register in Dean’s mind before Sam continued.

Sam’s mouth attempted to form the words a few times before he finally managed, “You have to kill me.”

Dean immediately tried to dismiss it with a, “Sam…” and began to turn away.

Sam grabbed Dean and turned him back towards him with a force that surprised Dean for as drunk as Sam was.

Sam’s voice was no longer a breathy whisper but dropped to a commanding deep tone as he said, “Dean, dad told you to do it, you have to.”

Anger flowed through every cell of Dean’s body at the reminder of what those instructions had put him through.  The havoc they were causing both boys now. Sam was a mess and it was all John’s fault.

Dean was barely able to suppress the rage he felt as he said harshly, “Yeah, well, Dad’s an ass.”

Sam’s mind was too befuddled to understand Dean’s reaction at first. His face contorted into confusion, Sam had never heard Dean speak like that about John. 

Dean’s ire rose, his words were filled with venom as he continued, “He never should have said anything.  I mean you don’t do that.  You don’t, you don’t lay that kinda crap on your kids.”

Sam’s confusion turned into certainty.  “No, he was right to say it.  Who knows what I might become?”

Sam made a gesture towards the door, “Even now, everyone around me dies.”

Dean looked down at the floor in frustration, his jaw tensing as he closed his eyes for a moment to gather his composure.

He looked up into the taller man’s worried face and said, “Well, I’m not dying, okay?”

Sam’s forehead furrowed into worry, realizing Dean wasn’t taking him seriously.

Dean’s voice was calm but stern as he continued, “And neither are you.”  The older man put his hand on his brother’s chest “Come on, sit down.”

Dean manhandled him backwards and down till Sam was seated on the bed.

Dean went to back up but Sam grabbed him, “No, please, Dean.” Panic and fear were beginning to surface in Sam’s tone.

Sam held Dean by his shirt pulling him down into an awkward bend, bringing their faces mere inches apart.  Dean’s grip tightened on Sam’s shirt at his shoulder.

Sam looked up into Dean’s face as if he were his savior, but his statement spoke to the opposite. “You’re the only one who can do it. Promise?”  The last barely came out above a whisper

Dean stared the love of his life in the face and begged him, “Don’t ask that of me.”

Dean’s heart was beating so hard he could barely breathe.  He had hated his father for months now, since John asked the same of him.  How could Sam put this weight back on Dean’s shoulders after knowing how much it had ripped Dean apart to begin with?

Sam begged again for Dean to promise.

Dean looked down into Sam’s eyes, Sam was staring up at him and he seemed so young, so fragile, like he had so often as a child when Dean would be trying to put him to bed and Sam would be scared that their dad wasn’t coming back.  Sam would beg Dean to promise that John would be back.  That nothing would happen to John while he was gone.  Dean had promised his Sammy so many things over the years as Sam’s kaleidoscope eyes stared fearfully up into his older brother’s.

It broke Dean’s resolve, and he picked that burden back up and placed it squarely on his own shoulders again.  “I promise.”

Sam could breathe again finally.  The weight of darkness in his soul wouldn’t spread out into the world.  Dean would stop him.  Dean would fix it.  Dean would end him before he could hurt anyone.  Sam took two calming breaths and said “Thanks.”

Sam had never loved Dean more than he did in that moment.  All the trust he had ever had in his big brother came flooding in, his heart beat wildly and desire flowed through his drunken veins.  Sam’s walls and defenses, that he had built so steadfastly over more than a decade, the ones that kept his twisted love for his brother at bay, faded into shadows.  Sam drew in a ragged breath.  His love and lust overwhelmed him and he reached for Dean in a way he had never allowed himself before. His hands found purchase on both sides of Dean’s face and his thumb began to stroke Dean’s cheek.

Dean realized how close his face had gotten to Sam’s and he panicked, fear twisted his gut as he realized in the middle of all this emotion, he was rock hard.  Sam was drunk enough, Dean could easily push him down on the bed if he wanted, kiss him the way he had always dreamed.  Shame flooded the older man as Sam whispered, “Thank you.”

Sam pulled at his brother with the purpose of bringing their lips together, but in Dean’s dread and self loathing he didn’t recognize Sam’s movements for what they were.  Dean yanked himself back from Sam’s grasp, manhandling the younger Winchester backwards, moving Sam out prone on the bed.

The sudden harsh movement shocked Sam’s system and he realized in horror what he had almost done.  He rolled over and hid his face in the pillow hoping beyond hope that Dean would not leave, would not recognize what had almost happened.  The adrenaline that had been driving the alcohol back, ran out and his worried thoughts began to haze slowly into oblivion.

Dean sat on the opposite bed, staring at his baby brother, who had no idea the monster watching over him.  Sam trusted Dean with his life in the most literal way possible and Dean had just thought about taking advantage of him.

Dean felt sick to his stomach.  He ran his hand across his stubbled face and chewed his bottom lip.  He had just promised to kill Sam.  He had never promised John, he had only listened as the man had instructed him to kill the one person Dean loved most in the world.  The request had nearly tore Dean apart but he hadn’t made his father that promise.  But now, he had just promised the impossible to Sam.  His only hope was that Sam was too drunk to remember it in the morning.  It didn’t take the vow away, but Dean knew in his heart he would never be able to fulfill it, no matter what happened. 

Sam could burn the world down and Dean didn’t think that would be enough for him to carry out Sam’s request.  Sam trusted him to do it though, trusted him to take care of him, and what did Dean do, he wanted to fuck his brother.  Sitting here watching Sam lying innocently across from him, all Dean could do was think about how good his brother’s ass looked, how broad Sam’s shoulders and back had become from working out.

Dean looked away, dropping his head in shame, running his fingers through his short hair, lost with what his own dark soul was full of.  Sam believed he was the danger, he could go dark.  Dean already was so much worse than Sam could imagine.

Dean couldn’t stay in the room one more minute.  He walked slowly down the hall and then trudged down the steps into the entry way.  He made his way through the door to the empty bar and was met by Sherwin, who asked him about his luck with antiques. Dean was shocked by the question momentarily and his confused guilt ridden brain had to take a beat to catch up.  He shook his head trying to clear his mind and get it firmly back on the case at hand.  Dean told the older man he had gotten distracted.

Sherwin offered him and drink and Dean couldn’t have refused if he had tried.  He was overwhelmed on so many levels, the only thing he could think to do was throw himself into questions about the new death.

It was easy to get Sherwin to open up about what had been going on and the history of the place he seemed to love and to mourn the coming loss of.  They walked together up the stairs so that Sherwin could show him pictures as he reminisced.

Sherwin told Dean that this was Rose’s home, that it used to be the family estate and had been in the family over a century.  He informed Dean that Rose was about to be sent away to a senior living facility, or graveyard as sad caretaker called it.  He told Dean that the hotel was to be torn down.

Dean asked about Rose’s health but the man didn’t feel like it was his place to discuss the details.  They walked slowly back down into the entry hall and continued to look at the old pictures all around.  In one of the images Dean saw Rose sitting with an older black woman who happened to have the five spot hoodoo symbol around her neck.  He was informed that the woman was Rose’s nanny who looked after her more than her own mother.

Dean finally knew where the symbol originated but didn’t know how it all tied in yet to what was happening with all the deaths.

After the tour down memory lane, Dean walked the grounds for a while.  As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t afford to get sloshed while Sam was so out of it.  He needed to be on guard in case anything else happened.  But that left Dean alone with his guilt, shame, and unstoppable love and desire for his brother.  He walked aimlessly taking in the entire surrounding land for the hotel but he didn’t see any further clues as to what could be going on, since the nanny was most likely long dead which left the older woman as the most likely culprit for what was happening.

Dean went quietly back into the room, and finally fell asleep in his own bed, his soul heavy from all the internal turmoil. 

In spite of having little sleep, Dean woke at first light and couldn’t regain his slumber so he got up and went down for breakfast.  Sam was still lost in his own pillow, not seeming to have moved much from his original position.  Dean stayed away as long as he could, but he knew they needed to solve the case before anyone else died.  Dean Winchester did what he always did and took all the angst, guilt, fear, and desire, and swallowed it all as he stepped back through the doorway to their shared room.

Both beds were empty but he heard a groan coming from the direction of the bathroom and looked into the standing mirror near the doorway that they had tilted so that they could see into the bathroom in order to have eyes in all parts of the room the way John had always taught them.

He could see Sam bent over the toilet, as he moaned and groaned his discomfort.  Dean couldn’t help how happy it made him.  Maybe it indicated that Sam was so drunk he wouldn’t have remembered anything.  Plus it reminded him of the first time Sam had had any alcohol.  His poor kid brother had been so sick he had looked green before it all came back up.  Sam had never picked up the joy of drinking the way Dean had.  Dean always suspected Sam’s horrible reaction to his first time being drunk had a lot to do with why.

Dean tried to slip into the teasing older brother suit that helped him hide his desires for so many years and began to tease the suffering Winchester.  After a few minutes of it, Dean’s face dropped the jovial mask and he asked as calmly as he could muster, “I’ll bet you don’t remember a thing from last night, do ya?”

Sam’s voice was hoarse and ragged as he answered no and complained about how bad he felt.  Dean began to describe a disgusting hangover remedy and Sam’s stomach lurched again.  Sam told Dean he hated him and his older brother just chuckled telling him that he knew he did. 

Dean told Sam what he had discovered last night about Rose having a Creole nanny that he believed taught her hoodoo.  After Sam pulled himself upright Dean told him he needed to brush his teeth before they went to meet the grandmother.

Dean stood guard as Sam picked the lock to the private family rooms.  They made their way silently up the stairs with the intention of interrogating the only suspect they had.  Instead they found an elderly woman in a wheelchair who was unresponsive vocally to any of their questions.

Sam checked her over and informed Dean he thought she had had a stroke.  They moved away from the woman and whispered a discussion about how hands on hoodoo was, which meant the woman couldn’t be doing anything with it in her current state.

Before they had decided their next step, Susan walked in and found them.  She became so incensed she threw them out of the hotel.  The Winchesters drove away but parked just out of sight.  They snuck back on foot to continue their investigation in secret, watching and listening, hidden on the grounds, trying to scope out their best vantage point, until they decided how to get back inside unnoticed.

They were arguing over the best area to position themselves when they heard a strange creaking.  Sam crept through the trees and bushes to be able to see the small playground area at the corner of the front of the building and he could see swings moving but the children were nowhere in sight.  Then he heard a higher pitched metal on metal screeching and realized the seesaw was moving on its own accord as well.  He turned and motioned to Dean who was still farther back towards the rear of the building.  By the time Sam turned back to check out front again, the merry-go-round had begun to turn on its own.

Sam realized Susan was nearby and the playground equipment’s movements became more and more erratic.  Once he heard the revving of a car engine, Sam became alarmed and began to creep closer waving franticly to Dean to pick up his pace.

Sam ran out and tackled Susan out of the way of the oncoming car before it rammed itself into a tree.  Dean ran over seconds later helping to pick them up and instructing them to get inside.

They helped Susan into the hotel and through to the bar where Sam fixed her a whiskey.  She asked them what had happened and they began to explain their theories.  In spite of her expressing disbelief and calling them insane, she was rattled enough to listen as they told her that it was a spirit and needed to know how long it had been since her mother had the stroke.  She confirmed that it was only a month ago right before the killings began.

It solidified the theory that Sam had been working on that Rose had been doing the hoodoo, not to hurt anyone but to protect them from the spirit.  Then once she had the stroke she couldn’t keep the magic work up.

In spite of what Susan had witnessed herself she didn’t want to believe it and the brothers ended up telling her that it didn’t matter what she believed as long as she got everyone out of harm’s way.   Sam mentioned getting her daughters to safety and Susan explained that she only had one daughter.  Dean asked about Maggie whom the brothers had thought was Tyler’s sister.

Susan stated that Maggie was imaginary and both brothers recognized that they had found the answer to who was haunting the place.  Sam realized that meant Tyler was most likely in danger so they began searching the hotel for her.  They found nothing in the family rooms except a bunch of the antique dolls trashed on the floor, but no signs of Tyler anywhere.

Sam asked Susan to tell them anything they could about Maggie and as they discussed it, she realized that her mother, Rose, had a sister that had died young named Margaret.  Upon learning that she died in the pool of the hotel they took off running in that direction.

The trio got to the upper entrance to the pool and couldn’t get the glass door open.  They watched in shocked horror as Tyler was pushed by an unseen force from where she stood at the railing down into the pool. 

Dean and Susan went around to the rear entrance leaving Sam to attempt to fight his way through the first door.  Even his beating against the glass of the doors with a heavy urn didn’t do enough damage to allow Sam entrance.   Dean and Susan had no luck at the solid wooden door in the rear either.

The glass Sam was fighting suddenly exploded inward and he wasted no time running to the balcony and jumping into the pool below.

Dean and Susan’s door busted inward with a hard kick of Dean’s boot and they made their way poolside just as Sam was laying Tyler’s lifeless body on the wet tile. 

The child coughed out a lungful of water and Sam looked up at Dean in shocked relief.  As soon as the child could speak Sam asked if she saw Maggie anywhere, but Tyler assured them the ghost girl was gone.

Dean took in his brother’s soaked countenance, and looked away quickly.  His mind tried hard to fight against the illicit thoughts that bubbled up from the sight of his wet dripping brother.

The Winchesters escorted Susan and Tyler into the family quarters to make sure Maggie didn’t reappear.  They waited in the main play area while the females went upstairs to collect Rose so that the three of them could make a safe getaway, in case Maggie wasn’t truly gone.

Dean was angry at not getting to end the ghost himself. The uncertainty of what happened beat against his mind like an angry vulture’s wings, making his tone harsh when he asked Sam for his theory of why the ghost might have suddenly given up her latest victim voluntarily.

Sam was exhausted from his remaining hangover and the exertion of the unexpected swim, not to mention the expiration of all the adrenaline that had pumped through his already addled system.  Sam usually loved how his brother looked to him for theories when Dean hit an unexplained scenario, but Sam’s response sounded forlorn at having no good answer to give to Dean’s sharp queries.  Dean’s agitation would have probably grown if not for a scream echoing from above them in the grandmother’s room.  The boys vaulted up the steps, Sam’s long legs taking two at a time, beating Dean into the room by mere seconds.  They found Susan and Tyler safe, but rattle from Rose’s sudden unexpected death.

Susan called the paramedics and the brothers stood to the side discussing the unexpected ending to the case until the body was removed.  Susan asked if they thought Maggie had something to do with Rose’s death and Dean admitted that they didn’t know, Sam told her that it was possible.

Sam apologized to Susan for their inability to save Rose, but she looked at him meaningfully before telling him he had nothing to apologize for.  Dean didn’t appreciate that her eyes were only for Sam as she said, “You’ve given me everything.”

It wasn’t that Dean cared that she didn’t give him his equal share of the credit although he was happy if Sam thought that was to blame if he happened to notice Dean’s eyes drop and his jaw tighten the way it did when he was trying to hide dismay with something that was going on.

Dean asked Tyler if she was sure Maggie wasn’t around anymore and the girl assured him that she would see her if she was.

It still didn’t feel right to Dean.  Instinct tightened his shoulders and made him feel that there was more to this story but nothing to base it on.  The hotel would be torn down in just a matter of weeks so that should fix it if they had missed something somehow.

As Dean and Sam followed the ladies to the waiting taxi, Dean said “I guess whatever’s going on must be over,” but his tone wasn’t one of certainty or conviction.

Sam held the car door open as Tyler and Susan began to get in and said, “You two take care of yourself, all right?” In a voice that echoed Dean’s misgivings.

As Sam looked down at Susan she moved away from the doorway and pushed herself into Sam’s arms.  Dean frowned as her head snuggled under Sam’s chin and her cheek pressed firmly into his chest as she wrapped her arms around Sam and held him close.

Dean’s jaw tensed further, but then as the hug began to end, Dean masked his jealousy behind a smile for the lady.  The taxi drove off and the brothers turned to walk side by side towards their own vehicle.  Sam’s face formed into a frown, he felt unsettled from the entire series of events.  He adjusted his jacket and shirt that felt out of sorts against him since the unexpected hug.

Without meeting his brother’s eyes, Dean put a smirking tone into his voice, “I think you could have hooked up some MILF action there, bud.”

Sam’s frown turned into a scoffing sound. 

Dean continued, “I’m serious, I think she liked you.”  He broke out into a wide grin, showing full teeth and crinkled at his eyes, but it didn’t fill his heart with any joy.  As he chuckled to seal the pantomime of happy teasing that did nothing to ease the queasy feeling from seeing the woman snuggle Sam the way Dean desperately wanted to do, but knew he never could.

Dean continued to tease Sam as was his way, one of many deflections he had learn to use over the years to hide his true feelings.

When they found their way to their respective sides of Baby, as Dean was pulling out his keys in preparation for departure, he asked Sam, “Feels good getting back in the saddle, doesn’t it?”

Sam sighed and answered, “Yeah.  Yeah it does.”  His inflection held a melancholy flavor that Dean wasn’t expecting, but then soon understood as Sam finished with, “But it doesn’t change what we talked about last night Dean.” 

Sam didn’t raise his head, but looked up at his brother, across the roof of the Impala, out from under his bangs, not sure what to expect from Dean about the impossible task Sam had set for him.

Dean tried to play dumb and blow him off by explaining they had discussed a lot of things last night.

Sam was having none of it, assuring his older brother than Dean knew what Sam meant.

Dean insisted that Sam was wasted.  Sam’s forehead wrinkled and his voice took on a pleading quality.  “But you weren’t”

Sam met Dean’s eyes.  The older man had an unhappy look and a stubborn set to his jaws as he stared the younger man down.

Sam whispered “And you promised.”

Dean’s heart sank.   His hope, of Sam letting this go, evaporated as his younger brother got slowly into the car.  Sam refused to meet Dean’s eyes, staring out, with quiet determination, onto the path the car would take to lead them away from this case and any belief Dean had of getting out of the promise he made.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I can't thank you all enough for sticking with me through this series. I hope to start being more consistent again like the old days. 
> 
> This episode was fun to write. I was pretty intimidated by it because of how dear it is to so many Wincest lovers so I hope I did it justice. Sam was is so beautiful in his agony and Dean is so amazing in his pain.
> 
> Your kudos and comments keep me going. I can't tell you how much I appreciate you all!


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